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Peter was pissed.
It wasn’t that his day was going that bad, but it was another chery on top of what was shaping up to be an altogether terrible year. Ever since Neal had disappeared—or rather, left—Peter had found himself frustrated with most aspects of his job. Even once the paperwork and the endless inquisition into Neal’s time with White Collar had ended, he couldn’t help but feel that he was just taking hit after hit.
Case in point: Hughes calling him into his office first thing in the morning, resulting in an immediate decline in his mood.
“We’ve got a consultant coming in to help your team with the Devon case,” Hughes announced the second that Peter sat down.
Peter opened his mouth to protest, but Hughes cut him off before he could speak. “Yeah, yeah, you ‘don’t need help’. Don’t bother, this was above my head.”
“I’m not sure I follow, sir,” Peter said, frowning.
“Well Burke, it seems as though you’ve stumbled upon a case involving alien artifacts and the Justice League insisted they send a representative.”
Peter scoffed. “I’m not going to work with some caped maniac who thinks they’re above the law.”
Surprisingly Hughes didn’t reprimand Peter for his tone, and instead seemed to bite back a smirk.
“Don’t worry Burke, I can confirm that your new consultant will not be wearing a cape,” he intoned. “Can I trust that you represent this department and the FBI in a professional manner?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Good. You’d better get back to work then. You wouldn’t want the consultant to show up and think that White Collar is filled with a bunch of slackers.
***
The consultant didn’t arrive that day, or even the next, leaving Peter with plenty of time to stew. Sure, maybe he was still a little raw at the prospect of working with another consultant so soon after Neal. But he was also pissed that the Justice League—who as far as he could tell operated unchecked by the American (or really any) government—was able to insert themselves into the middle of an active FBI case.
Peter had never hid his disdain for vigilantes, and he was honestly unsure whether he'd be able to hone it in enough to act professionally when the consultant finally arrived.
He bit his tongue as he told Diana and Jones what to expect, telling them only that they had a consultant assigned by the brass. Of course, they immediately saw through his pretence of non-chalance.
“Who’s sending the consultant?" Diana asked immediately, her tone making it clear she'd noticed Peter had held back.
“If it came from above Hughes it must be serious,” Jones added.
Why had Peter even bothered trying? He sighed, and resigned himself to telling the truth. “It’s a Justice League consultant.”
Jones’ eyes went wide, immediately awestruck just as Peter had expected.
Diana huffed a laugh. “Well, I guess that explains your mood, Mister ‘superheroes-are-criminals’”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Peter said, rolling his eyes. “But I’m going to do my best to put aside my own opinions, and I expect you both to be professional as well.”
Their conversation was suddenly cut off by his office phone ringing. As soon as he picked it up, Hughes’ voice rang out.
“Burke. Get your team over to the conference room. The consultant is here.”
Diana and Jones exchanged a glance that Peter couldn’t decipher. He sighed and stood, gesturing for them to follow.
As they walked, Peter allowed himself one last moment to gather himself before succumbing to what he knew would be a long day.
Yet when they finally entered the room, there was nothing that could have prepared him for the man waiting for them in the conference room.
Sitting at the head of the table like he was the one waiting for them to arrive was a man so bitingly familiar that Peter was left feeling dizzy.
His hair was dark, but just a shade too dark, and far too long. Eyes that were just as intelligent, but filled with a genuine sparkle behind their familiar assessing gaze. A suit, still tailored, but lacking a vest and tie, shirt unbuttoned just this side of unprofessional. A smile that looked real, but that Peter knew better than to trust.
“Neal?” Jones whispered, voicing the question that Peter hadn’t been able to say himself.
The man’s smile didn’t waver.
“I’m Agent Grayson, your JL consultant,” he said, ignoring Jones' question entirely. Even his voice was just not quite right. It was uncanny, this man who should have been Neal was undisputedly was not.
Taking a deep breath, Peter resigned himself to working with this man—Agent Grayson—if he wanted to get any answers. Clearly he wasn’t about to break character anytime soon.
“I assumed that you’d be…”
“Masked?” Grayson filled in. “Wearing pajamas and a cape?” He smirked, and Peter realized that he was parroting Peter’s own words, spoken months ago about the ridiculousness of vigilantes. “It’s not exactly public knowledge that the JL has non-hero operatives. I was lucky enough to have built up personal connections to the capes to get a job offer.”
“But you know enough to help us?” Peter asked skeptically.
Grayson met his eyes squarely for the first time since he’d entered the room. “I have plenty of experience as a consultant. I think you’ll find we work together just fine.”
***
As it turned out, they did work well together, like a well-oiled machine. Though Peter felt like he was in a daze the whole day, they did manage to get the case closed in record time. A day ago, Peter wouldn’t have imagined he could function so smoothly with another consultant—but then again, he wasn’t exactly a new consultant, was he?
Grayson hadn’t given any further indication that he was really Neal, and it made Peter nearly go insane. Diana and Jones seemed to have come to a consensus that they would make the most of working with this not-Neal, and dove into work unwaveringly, joking around with Grayson like he was one of them.
Yet Peter couldn’t quite get over it. For all that Grayson looked and sounded almost like Neal, he very clearly had a very different set of expertise. He tackled the case with a precision that Neal had never bothered with, and showed a deep familiarity with law enforcement procedure—something that Neal had voiced open disdain for and often refused to adhere to. Grayson was also an extremely competent representative of the Justice League and seemed to truly be an expert on alien wares.
It was truly and completely mind-boggling.
Suffice to say, as Peter opened the door to his apartment, he was ready to either start ranting to El or just collapse, whichever seemed best in the moment. He was not, however, at all prepared to open his door to hear El laughing alongside a familiar voice.
In hindsight, he really shouldn’t have been surprised to find that Neal—Grayson—had beat him home.
“Hey Peter,” he said in that overtly charming tone that was 100 percent Neal. “So nice of you to finally join us.”
“What are you doing here,” Peter sighed.
“Oh Peter,” El said with a smile. “Don’t be a grump. Dick here was just telling me about what a great day you two had.
“Dick?” Peter asked as he took a seat to join them. “That’s what you want us to call you now?”
Grayson flashed a wry smile. “Believe it or not, it’s the most honest name I have.”
“Before today I never would have believed ‘honest’ could ever remotely apply to you. Now I believe it even less.”
“Peter,” El admonished, “Let him explain.”
“It’s fine El, he’s got a point.” Grayson’s—Dick’s—tone was suddenly more serious than Peter had ever heard. “I did lie a lot, and I still do.” He turned to look at Peter. “But should know that this is the real me. My name is actually Dick Grayson, and I am actually an agent of the Justice League. Neal Caffrey was a cover that we used for ops that required a bit more discretion than a typical cape can get away with. We needed an operative in White Collar, and Neal Caffrey fit perfectly. I’d played Neal before, and undercover ops are one of my specialties.”
Peter tried to digest all of that information without reacting, but Dick must have read something on his face because he continued on.
“I hate that I had to leave so suddenly. My family says that I can make friends in the depths of hell, and White Collar was nowhere near that extreme.” Dick let out a rueful laugh. “You were my friends, and I didn’t want to leave you in the dust. I wish I could tell you more, but as you might have guessed my ties to the JL mean that there are other people’s lives on the line if I give too much away.”
“He’s still Neal, Peter,” El said softly. Clearly she’d already heard most of this and come to some kind of conclusion. “He’s just a little to the left of the man we knew.”
Dick smiled at El’s words. “I was taught long ago that the best performances, the best lies, the best cons, are the ones built on truth. Neal was no exception. Even though I wasn’t the only one to use the ID, he was based on me.”
He seemed to be telling the truth, but Peter now knew better than to assume he could read the enigma of a man standing before him. Dick’s seemed genuine, and that was probably as much as Peter was ever going to be able to figure out.
“You get that this is insane, right?” Peter finally bit out, a little harsher than he’d intended.
Dick smiled ruefully. “My barometer for normalcy was broken long before we met. Hell, you’d probably call my entire life insane. But I hope that we can figure something out, because I really liked working with you again today, Peter. And I want to be able to do that again.”
With El smiling at him imploringly, Peter couldn’t help but respond with a bit of honesty of his own. “It was good to work with you again.”
“Of course it was,” Dick smirked, and Peter saw just a bit of Caffrey shine through. “I’m great at what I do.”
“How about we start with some dinner,” El chimed in. “And get to know each other again. I bet Dick has some stories he’s been holding back on us.”
“You have no idea,” Dick said, a sparkle in his eye.
“Dinner,” Peter agreed, “And then an interrogation.”
“Whatever you say, Agent Burke,” Dick replied easily, and Peter got the sense that for all that Neal Caffrey had been a never-ending well of secrets, he had nothing on the man beneath the persona.
Dick Grayson just might prove to be an even more fascinating friend than Neal Caffrey.